


A Moment's Reprieve

by LeeBean



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, If you tilt your head and squint a little, Stitches, Very minor chrisxleon, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23722420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeBean/pseuds/LeeBean
Summary: When Leon can't make it to the extraction point before a storm hits, he's forced to take shelter. Hunnigan's worried about him brushing off his injuries, so she sends him a friend.
Kudos: 26





	A Moment's Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> [ You know that feel where you have an idea in your head and you have to get it out? I did that. In the first part. And as anyone who has read my stuff already well knows, I can't end anything properly for shit. So this thing was spawned. ]

As usual, it was looking a whole lot like his claim that people were more dangerous than the undead was being verified.

At least the undead didn’t generally shoot at him (with some exceptions and then they weren’t exactly accurate).

Bullets hissed into the snow far too close for comfort or thudded into the trees around him as he fled through the snow, every step a risk taken against breaking his legs because there was no way of knowing how deep the mountain snow was.

It’d be beautiful in better circumstances. A soft, clean blanket of snow, evergreens standing tall and proud in the fresh air, the land sloping away down the mountain’s side. There were still signs of animals too, not that he had time to look for them.

Bark exploded across the side of his face as a bullet splintered the side of the tree he was passing and he let out a shout, turning his face away from it too late to do much to mitigate the damage. A couple of splinters were no big deal though and he didn’t drop his pace.

There were five of them left, down from the twelve that there had been in two squads of six. Two squads for one man? He was flattered.

Firing awkwardly behind him delayed them only a little and it would be a waste of bullets to blind-fire while he was running but if he stopped to take aim, he’d probably wind up dead.

A shouted curse and a howl of pain from somewhere behind him made him dart behind a tree to catch his breath and a quick glance revealed that one of the men had fallen and couldn’t get up. Probably one of the very broken bones that Leon was desperately hoping to avoid because it was impossible to see his footing in the snow.

The delay allowed him to put down another two men, leaving two for him to take care of but a bullet grazing his arm revealed that his cover wasn’t enough to protect him and so he ran again. He was just lucky they hadn’t brought dogs.

“Give it up already,” he muttered, his breath clouding the air. The exertion of running through snow meant that he was overheating in his thermals as well but running for his life had never exactly been comfortable.

One of the men seemed to have found some luck though as the agent heard more gunshots go off but then felt the sharp pain and lingering burn of a bullet slicing into the side of his neck. The abrupt pain and reflexive flinch away from it offset his balance, resulting in a misstep that twisted his ankle and sent him tumbling into the snow with a shout - a second bullet catching him in the arm as he went down and splashing the pristine white snow with stark crimson colour.

Thinking they had him, that they’d won, the remaining pair advanced on him, unaware of how Leon was waiting for them, laying deceptively prone in the snow. Even before they stepped into view, their steps were crunching loudly enough in the snow that Leon knew exactly where they were so even before they moved into sight, using his left hand because of his wounded right arm, he emptied the last of his clip into the two of them and listened to the ‘thump’ of the bodies toppling into the snow.

“’It’s abandoned’ they said. ‘No activity there’ they said,” he growled, grimacing as he carefully sat up, the snow already melting and soaking into his winter gear. Muttered curses coloured the air as he ignored the cold long enough to catalogue his injuries, teeth gritted as he carefully tested his ankle and prodded at his arm and checked for an exit wound. Thankfully there was one but the snow around him was splattered with his blood.

“Good thing I wore extra layers,” he said with a sigh, undoing his jacket so that he could rip a good length of fabric from the bottom of his shirt. Several precious minutes were spent wrapping the wound, breathing harshly through his nose as he bound it as best he could and eased his jacket back on over the top.

Once back on his feet, he took stock of the eerily quiet surroundings, with the gunfire and shouting no longer echoing across the mountainside and raised his good arm to touch his earpiece.

“Leon? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine Hunnigan, no thanks to whoever gave us that intel-”

“I’ve already done some digging and it seems the contact has gone AWOL. I’ve contacted local authorities and an agent in the area - if the contact is still in the region, we’ll find them.”

“Okay, that’s great Hunnigan - look, you have my current position, how far is it to the cabin?

“Three-point-two klicks due West of your current position but an inclement weather forecast means that extraction is going to have to wait.”

Well that was just great. Shaking his head with a sigh, Leon gauged the direction by the sun.

“Thanks Hunnigan. Have the team contact me when they’re close and I’ll see you for debriefing when I’m back on home turf. Leon out.”

With his good arm, he reached for a low-hanging branch and broke it off, using it to cover his tracks at least somewhat as he left the scene of carnage behind him, making sure he wasn’t leaving a blood trail to negate his efforts. If there was a storm coming it’d discourage any more pursuers but if he didn’t make the extra effort, it’d be his luck that someone would manage to follow his trail.

“Just three klicks. A walk in the park. Nice clean air, not another soul in sight. Perfect, right?”

Only he didn’t want to lead any potential pursuers straight to the cabin so he headed south, down the mountain to lay something of a false trail in case someone did manage to pick it up.

A walk that would normally take him less than a half hour took him more than two after the detour and in the snow with his wounds but eventually the cabin came into sight and the exhausted, wounded agent hobbled inside.

With his tracks covered and a fair distance from the facility (he’d run a goddamn long way from it in the first place), if anyone saw the lit cabin, their first thought wouldn’t be that it sheltered a DSO agent. The cabin was little more than a waystation for hunters or trekkers and it looked a whole lot like it hadn’t been used in a while.

It was cold inside and getting dark with the sun beginning to set but it was shelter and a quick perusal of the cupboards revealed some tinned food, a small stock of firewood and the holy grail - a first aid kit.

But first, get a fire going because it was fucking freezing and the last thing he needed was his hands shaking as he patched himself up.

“At least something’s going in my favour now,” he muttered, carrying finally carrying the medkit through from the bathroom to the main room and taking a seat on the worn couch. By that point he was hobbling pretty badly on his twisted ankle and the bullet wounds had bled through his makeshift wrapping. It was well past time he sorted himself out or the extraction point was going to feel a whole lot further away than it was when the storm passed.

“Just figures that I’m on my own when I have to play ‘doctors and nurses’…”

\------

The weather was starting to come over real strong by the time Chris had begun the climb, glad for the fact that he was using a snowmobile to get up the slopes because it would be one hell of a slog otherwise. He didn’t know what it was about Leon S Kennedy but the agent was always in the most out-of-the-way, ass backwards parts of the world, or country, whenever Chris had need of him.

Admittedly that wasn’t very often (it was like, three times) but still.

Now he was climbing a goddamn mountain in the freezing cold with the incoming storm starting to drive snow into his face and it was getting dark and christ why had he agreed to this again? Leon was more than capable of looking after himself. He didn’t need Chris to come babysit him.

He was pretty sure that Hunnigan was breaking the rules somehow by just enlisting the help of anyone in the area. He had no idea what she did with all the governmental red tape she probably had to wade through on a regular basis. Made a dress out of it perhaps. With a very long train. Leon had given the impression that she was more into pantsuits than dresses though.

When she’d come on over his comm, having apparently tracked his location or hacked the BSAA database or something to find his position, and said that bad intel had landed Leon in trouble, Chris couldn’t exactly say no to checking in on the agent.

She’d said that he sounded okay in their last communication but they both knew that Leon could have broken every bone in his body while caught in a housefire and still claim to be fine.

Right then his main fear was Leon hearing the snowmobile, hiding and putting a bullet in him because he wasn’t expecting guests - Hunnigan hadn’t actually said whether or not she had informed Leon of her intention and he suspected that she hadn’t.

He had an inkling that she was deliberately setting him up.

When the cabin eventually came into sight, there was a small flickering light shining from the window which meant that either there were candles burning or a fire going so that was hopefully a good sign that the agent wasn’t suffering too badly.

There was a good chance that the sounds of the storm battering the little cabin would cover up the sound of the snowmobile engine by then though, what with it rushing through the trees and rattling a badly hung shutter.

The few metres to the door were arduous on their own as the snow was already piling up and being driven against him like the elements were trying to force him back down the mountain. ‘Payback for punching a boulder, perhaps’, he thought sardonically.

The cabin door was closed but not locked and he stepped in to hear Leon making a comment before the wind howled in behind him and he closed the door.

“Heard you needed someone to play house with, Kennedy,” he called, kicking snow off his boots and shaking it out of his hair and was surprised to hear a bark of derisive laughter in response.

“I complain that I don’t have someone to play ‘Doctor’ with me and Chris Redfield turns up on my doorstep? What are the odds?”

Ahead of him, Chris could see Leon on the slightly tatty couch with his shirt off and a bandage slapped on his neck. Hunnigan’s concern wasn’t unfounded then.

“Well then, doctor Redfield’s in the house. Be a good boy and show me your booboo,” he replied in spite of how Leon didn’t sound particularly pleased to have his company, playing along as he shucked his snow-covered jacket, tossing it over the back of the single wooden chair at the little wooden table behind the couch.

“I have Hunnigan to thank for this, I take it?” Leon grumbled, not looking up from where he’d been disinfecting his arm. His jaw was aching with how much he’d been gritting his teeth against the pain. “The hell are you even doing in this part of the world?”

“Claire asked me a favour for TerraSave probably related to the reason you’re here,” Chris answered with some ambiguity. He knew Leon would be tight-lipped about his own reason for being there, that government red-tape and all. Even with friends he seemed reluctant to speak of his experiences outside of what had already been documented in his reports. That kind of repression was going to get to the agent sooner or later, if it hadn’t already.

The shadows under his eyes, just as they had been when they’d faced off against Arius, suggested that he was already more than a little troubled. Talking about it had helped Chris and he wanted it to help Leon but the agent could be particularly stubborn when he wanted to be.

Finally moving around the couch to see the extent of the damage, Chris grimaced a little in sympathy on seeing the through-and-through wound and put his hands up defensively when Leon glared at him.

“I know you can do it yourself, you don’t need to tell me that, but I’m here and I have two free hands.”

There wasn’t really any arguing that logic so Leon held out his arm, frowning at the little smile of victory that Chris was wearing as he reached for the bandages. “Just be careful you big oaf, I don’t need you making it worse.”

“You wound me Leon,” Chris lamented, refusing to let the agent’s perpetually dour mood get him down. “I’ll have you know I used to patch Claire up all the time. She can testify to how gentle I can be.”

When Leon didn’t bother to reply, Chris took that as permission and seeing as the agent had already disinfected the wound and the tools, he set about stitching them up as carefully as he could. He wasn’t surprised when the agent used his free hand to help himself to a hip flask of some alcohol or other and while he disapproved of Leon’s coping methods in general, he wasn’t going to begrudge him something to take the edge off the pain.

The minutes passed in silence aside from the occasional hiss or sharp inhale when Chris had to pass the needle through a particularly tender area and it took a short while but eventually he was tying off the thread, pressing a clean wound-pads over the stitches to protect them and then wrapping the agent’s forearm with bandages.

Sitting back on his haunches and looking pleased with himself for his work, Chris finally looked up at Leon, feeling smug. “Not bad if I say so myself.”

“Do I get a candy for being a good boy?” Leon queried with a soft huff, tilting the flask back once more before screwing the top back on.

Chris paused for a moment before rising from his crouch in front of the couch, stretching his legs. “Let me go see what I can find,” he agreed amicably, quietly enjoying the look of surprise on the agent’s face while at the same time feeling a little sorry for the guy. Had no-one offered to get him something nice before?

It was with a thoughtful frown on his face that Chris moved over to the kitchen area to see what he could rustle up, the only sounds then being the wind roaring through the trees outside. He’d been worried about spending any time alone with the prickly agent but so far it hadn’t been so bad.

Maybe he could help Leon a little more during their stay and if it all went tits up, at least he’d have a story to tell Claire.

\-----

There was an air of awkwardness when Chris returned from the kitchen space and held out a bowl of tinned peaches to the agent who looked between it and the captain as though confused by the offering. Chris proffered it again, raising his brows.

“Take it you idiot. It’s just peaches. Hardly the candy you wanted but they should be sweet enough to compensate,” Chris urged, confused by the agent’s hesitance.

Leon did take the bowl and the spoon within it but didn’t dig in immediately, his eye on Chris as the bigger man took a seat on the other end of the couch. “Just can’t get a moment’s reprieve, can I?” Leon queried with a huff, shaking his head. First China, then New York, now here. “Why is it that ever since China, you’re everywhere I go?”

“China was coincidence, New York, we needed you, now?” Now he’d been in the general area and if he was being honest, ever since he’d found Leon already a bottle deep in a bar in Colorado, he’d been worried about the agent. Leon wasn’t one of his team but he was a Raccoon survivor and they needed to stick together.

“Now I’m here because Hunnigan asked me to be - and because I wanted to be here to make sure you’re alright-” he cut himself off, holding a hand up to the agent who had opened his mouth to protest. “People care about your wellbeing Leon, even if you don’t. You’re friend or family to a lot of people and letting them worry about you costs you nothing.”

Since he didn’t really have a counter argument to that, Leon shut his mouth without saying anything, mulling over the fact that Chris could so easily admit to needing help and speak so comfortably about being a part of something bigger than just himself.

Recently it had been getting easier and easier to forget that he wasn’t the only one in the war against bioterrorism. Even if it didn’t end, new recruits were being added to the BSAA roster and new agents were being brought into the DSO fold (although Leon had halted that until they could recover from Simmons’ influence and uncover any other tampering within the organisation) and Rebecca had reminded him that it wasn’t only frontline troops fighting either.

Chris watched quietly as his words seemed to sink in, eating his own share of the tin of peaches.

Leon’s peaches were still untouched and he stared into them pensively, looking troubled. Maybe Chris had a point. Maybe he’d been on his own for too long. Even when they were going after Arius they had split up aside from the one onslaught in the hallway.

It was just easier to be on his own. To watch his own back. There wasn’t really any excuse for not having tried to socialise outside of work though. He just… didn’t want to be hounded about his drinking, or his lack of sleep or whatever else the others disapproved of.

The silence stretched on for a while, long enough that Chris rose from the couch to take his empty bowl back to the kitchen area and when Leon still seemed closed off, lost in thought, Chris figured that he’d leave the guy to it and moved into the small adjoining room where the cot was to see if there was a blanket or any spare clothes. It certainly hadn’t escaped his notice that Leon was sat there without a shirt on because of his wounds and while the fire was warming things up there was still a bit of a chill in the air.

When he returned, Leon was laying across the couch with one foot up and Chris could see in the firelight that the agent’s face was slightly bloodied too. Hopefully no more scars to ruin those good looks, the shadows under his eyes did that enough as it was.

Tossing the blanket over the agent, he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t receive a word in reply. Seemed as though Leon had been long overdue for a reality check regarding the people around him and Chris would be lying if he said he wasn’t just as worried as his sister was about the reclusive agent.

It looked a lot like Leon was only living for the missions, coming alive when his life was on the line but otherwise just… existing, drinking and drowning in his own melancholy until he was next deployed.

That was no way to live.

“Hey,” he called, waiting for Leon to acknowledge him and look over. When he had the agent’s attention, he eagerly went on. “You should come over after debrief. Claire and I have been talking about having everyone over for a barbecue, the whole gang. If you stop by for a beer, we can get a time picked out that suits you.”

For a moment Leon looked like he might be a cornered animal, forced into a situation that he couldn’t escape from. Chris hoped that the agent wouldn’t say no, he’d tried to be casual about it whilst at the same time putting a little emphasis on how he wanted to include Leon so it was with some relief that he watched his companion nod slowly as if he’d just been weighing the pros and cons of agreeing.

It was silly to compare Leon, one of the world’s best fighters in the war against bioterrorism, to an animal but the younger man was as skittish as one and it felt like he was trying to get the man socialised again, like he’d been neglected or something. Maybe he had. The impression that Chris had gotten was that sometimes the agent was treated like nothing more than a weapon to be used and not a person.

“Great!” Chris cheered, expression brightening further when Leon offered a somewhat hesitant smile.

It was definitely felt good to be wanted, even if his worries continued to simmer below the surface but with his agreement, the tension in the cabin dissipated and when Chris took a seat in the slightly ratty armchair (since Leon was taking up the couch) the conversation came more easily.

That night despite there only being one bed in the cabin, Leon insisted on remaining on the couch because he didn’t want to get up and jostle his wounds just to lay back down somewhere else and while the couch wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, he’d had worse and it negated any arguments about who would have the only bed. Chris didn’t look particularly pleased with the arrangement but he had to concede that Leon was technically already on the couch and relocating him would be a waste of energy.

With the storm still blowing away beyond the walls, the pair were left undisturbed through the night but of course, come morning when the storm had passed, their respite was cut short.

They were already packing up to be on their way but the sounds of shouting hastened their actions.

“These guys are late to the party - it’s already over,” Leon grumbled his ankle still troubling him but he was going to have to suck it up and get moving. The cabin wasn’t going to offer them much protection if their attackers could just pepper the walls with gunfire so their best bet was going to be to make a break for the extraction point and hope that there would be more firepower waiting for them there.

Helped that they’d be leaving in style on the back of Chris’ snowmobile. After the fresh snowfall, their escape on foot would be hellish otherwise.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand already,” Leon called just as Chris joined him by the door.

Moments later they were dashing for the snowmobile as angry voices rose behind them.

\-----

“I’m getting real tired of getting shot at,” Leon grumbled as a bullet pinged off the side of the snowmobile. Even getting to the vehicle was a slog through fresh, deep snow piled high after the storm. The vehicle itself was partially buried and took several precious moments to clear enough that they could both hop on.

There was no arguing over who would drive given Leon’s wounds and honestly Leon was grateful. Knowing his luck the engine would explode or the ski would break or something if he was in front.

Granted every time he was in the driver’s seat on mission or in an outbreak, usually the vehicle was already on fire and all he could do was damage limitation but still. He was more than happy to let Chris take the lead.

His arm hated him for all the motion but it wasn’t as bad as the shoulder wound from back in Raccoon, although holding onto the snowmobile wasn’t going to do him any favours regarding the pain and after grunting an acknowledgement to Chris’ warning that they were on their way, he had to bite his tongue against a shout of pain as the sudden motion jolted him.

Spitting a curse and looking over his shoulder as bullets whizzed by, he figured that he should have expected their attackers to have some transportation of their own. Three snowmobiles slowed to their let on-foot comrades board and the gunfire picked up again.

“See if you can put a couple of them out of commission!” Chris called over the sound of the engine and Leon had to roll his eyes even as he pulled his Sentinel NIne free. Like he was just going to sit back there and enjoy the ride, hoping all the while that he didn’t take a bullet in the back?

“Shut up and get us out of here!” he called back instead of calling the BSAA captain a few choice names. Of course Chris would find something about that funny, the sound of the bigger man’s laughter audible over the sound of the snowmobile racing across the snow. Leon drowned it out with gunfire of his own, though he didn’t expect to hit anything. Getting the bastards behind them to keep their distance was his intent. Maybe even get them to fuck up and crash.

Trees whipped past them, Chris steering as if they were skiiers doing slalom and Leon managed to take out one of the gunmen, satisfaction swelling inside him as the body tumbled over and fell into the snow.

God he was sick of being shot at. He’d almost prefer some good old fashioned zombies. At least they tended to go down more easily.

Another bullet grazed past his leg and the agent cursed, frustrated at how awkward it was to fire back so once he’d gotten Chris’ attention with a tug on his winter gear, he called out what he wanted to do.

“On my signal okay?” he added, watching trees whizzing by, a small cluster of boulders ahead. “Now!” he shouted and Chris let off the gas and pulled on the brake lever. Two of the three snowmobiles raced by them. The one without a gunman on the back ploughed into the rocks when the driver looked back at them in a bid to work out what happened and the heat from the explosion warmed them momentarily as Chris fired up their own machine once more.

The second vehicle that blew past them circled back around but not before Leon put several bullets into both riders while he had the benefit of being stationary and having steadier aim.

Chris was impressed. Only one snowmobile left to deal with and they’d closed the distance to the extraction point substantially.

The sound of rotor blades reached them first, the blessed sound of safety so close. And then it came into sight and the relief they felt was almost tangible.There, in the crew bay was an agent on a door gun and Leon didn’t even bother to look behind them as their pursuers were riddled with more bullets in those few seconds than Leon had spent in the entirety of the chase.

The snowmobile hadn’t even stopped before Leon was sliding off it and running over to their waiting salvation. No point in hanging around and waiting to see if anyone else wanted to pop a few shots at him.

“Nice driving back there Redfield,” Leon praised lightly once they were both safely in the crew bay and the chopper was rising above the trees. The land below them was beautiful, now that he could stop and enjoy the view and looking at it meant that he wasn’t looking at Chris, whose eyes he could feel boring into him.

“Not bad shooting back there for someone with a hole in their arm,” Chris returned with a grin, “and that was a good idea to hit the brakes. Quick thinking. You’re pretty handy to have around.”

Chris’ gaze lingered on him so Leon hummed an acknowledgement.

“I think I’m beginning to see what Claire sees in you.”

That got his attention and Chris seemed pleased when Leon’s gaze slid back over to him.

“She said you were ‘floppy haired and full of godawful humour but the best damn guy to have at your back in a crisis’.” She’d said a number of other things including having legs for forever and a really nice ass but Chris kept that much to himself mostly because he didn’t want Leon to know he’d been looking.

Leon barked a laugh that sounded as though he hadn’t genuinely found something funny in a while and shook his head, making those floppy bangs sway. “Shut up already Redfield or I might start to think you like me with all these compliments you’re sending my way.”

It was Chris’ turn to laugh then, finally turning to look through the crew bay window as their transport whisked them back to the private airport.

Leon was right, they were seeing a lot more of each other than they had in the years after Raccoon despite both being survivors of those early outbreaks but Chris for one wasn’t going to complain.


End file.
